Serenity: The Hunt
by Brandon 'B-MAC' McArthur
Summary: After the events of serenity, the crew is on the run again, but this time with a new adversary after them, even more ruthless than any they've faced before.  The Operative has also returned to help Serenity's crew, but can he be trusted?
1. Chapter 1

The Operative stood before the council, his hands and feet bound to the chair as his eyes carefully scanned his interrogators. The tribunal that sat before him was made up of two men and a woman. The man in the middle was tall with grey hair, resembling a judge or an aged preacher. The other man on the right had snow white hair, laid back along his bony crown. The woman that sat on the left had jet black hair with several streaks of grey in her hair. None were old, but they had all left their prime years ago. They stared coolly at him and he stared coolly back. His eyes held nothing, but his captors' eyes were filled with a venomous hate.

The grey haired man crossed his hands and leaned forward over the desk. "Sir, we entrusted you with this task of preventing certain information from becoming public knowledge in the belief that you would not stop until the task was done. Tell us; were we wrong to trust you with this critical mission?"

The Operative stared forward. "No sir", he calmly replied.

"Then why did you not succeed in killing this seventeen year old girl?" the woman said, her hand twisting a strand of hair.

"A better question", the third man spoke, "is why did you not finish with the job when she was within your reach?"

"I did not see it as necessary for more blood to be spilled. What she knew had been…"

"Publicized?" the woman dryly muttered.

The Operative looked at her and said, "Revealed. I did not find her to be a threat since the secret I assume you had me silence had been made apparent to the solar system."

"If that were the only secret she knew, you would not be here now", the white haired man said. "You would be in a cell awaiting execution for treason."

The Operative looked at him, his face revealing no emotion. "I had no knowledge of this."

"What were your orders?" the grey haired man asked, looking through his glasses at a piece of paper.

"To capture or kill the girl, with the use of any force necessary."

"And was there anything about the mission ending if certain secrets were leaked out?"

"No sir."

"Then why did you not complete the mission?" the white haired man asked, anger welling up in his voice.

The Operative did not respond.

"Very well", the grey haired man said. "For your crimes against the Alliance, you will be discharged from duty effective immediately and we decree death for the act of treason. And due to your vast experience with avoiding danger, we have decided that vaporization shall be your method of death. The execution will take place in twelve days' time." He waved his hand once and said, "Guards."

Four guards stepped forward and aimed their guns at the Operative. The fifth guard came forward with a needle and injected its contents into his arm. His face remained still as his vision grew blurry and his hearing dulled. He heard only four words before sleep overcame him.

"Bring us Charles Dante."


	2. Chapter 2

Dust rolled through the streets of Deadmoon as Mal jumped off the cruiser. He knew that they shouldn't pull a heist so soon after blowing the lid off Miranda, but there was no other option. They were low on supplies and despite their care, the crews rushed maintenance was starting to show on the ship. He was already out several fuel rods and his heat shields looked like they were about to burn off the ship. He thought that they would burn off the day before when they landed on this Polythian moon.

He put his hand on his gun and nodded to Jayne and Zoe. They followed Mal to the bank while Inara stayed in the cruiser, ready to go as soon as the trio finished their business. Zoe pulled out her rifle and held it by her side, out of sight by ready to fire. Jayne kept his machine gun in his jacket. The giant weapon created a large bulge along the left side of his body.

Mal looked at Jayne and said, "Do you think that gun's big enough."

"Well, seeing as how I don't have any grenades, it's just right."

"I've already told you, you don't need a grenade."

"Yeah, look what happened last time you said that."

"Ladies", Zoe said sternly. "Are we going to get the money or argue over who has the bigger gun." She turned and walked into the bank. Mal looked at Jayne and shrugged before following her in. Immediately, he pulled out his gun and hit the guard on his right in the throat with the gun handle before pointing it at the guard across the room. The guard's hand dropped towards his gun, but stopped after taking a look at Jayne's gun.

"Take the gun out of the holster with your two fingers and toss it to me", Hal ordered. "Do it slowly, and you'll make it out of here alive." The guard did as he told and tossed the gun to Jayne. Jayne kicked it to Hal who picked it up and put it in his belt. "You just won brightest cop of the day".

"Now everybody get down on the ground! This is a robbery," Zoe yelled. "If anyone moves wrong, gives me a bad feeling, or even breathes funny, I'll blow your head off."

The few people that were there quickly fell to the ground, covering their heads as they turned their heads to watch their captors. Mal quickly walked up to the teller and kicked the metal grate between him and the tellers. Wood shattered as the grate broke off the wooden frame that held it up. He nimbly leaped over the counter and kicked the teller as he reached for underneath the desk. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He rounded them up and pushed them through the door to join the rest of the captives. He then began walking between the cowering prisoners. "Now, let's see", he said as he looked over his hostages before stopping in front of an elderly man that was well-dressed. "You must be the manager."

The manager shakily stood up. "Yea…yes sir. I'm mist…miste… mister…"

"Can it. The only words I want to hear come out of your mouth are the six digits that open that safe."

"Of course. Well, um, sir, the numbers are six, one, three, six…"

Hal shot a bullet at the ceiling, shutting the manager up immediately. He then pointed the gun at the manager's face and cocked it. "Now let's hear the digits that don't set off the alarm."

The manager froze for a second and then blurted out, "sixseventhreesixeightseven". Hal lowered the gun and smiled, putting his rough hand on the manager's shoulder.

"Now don't you feel better?" The manager nodded. "Thought so". He turned to Jayne and yelled, "You heard him! Now go get the money."

Jayne said, "Yeah boss," before running behind the teller's desks to the vault. He typed in the first three digits than stopped.

Hal couldn't believe his ears when he heard Jayne yell, "What were those last three numbers?"

"You can't remember six fucking numbers?"

"Hey! You know my math ain't too good!"

"But it's only six numbers!"

"That still don't change the fact that I don't remember them. So what are they?"

"I don't remember! I thought you were supposed to remember!"

"You fucking don't remember! Than why the hell are you makin' fun of me?"

"I wasn't supposed to memorize the numbers, you were!"

"Yeah but…"

"Six eight seven", Zoe said.

"What?" Jayne asked.

"Those are the last three numbers, now stop arguing like twelve year olds and get the money."

A few minutes later, Jayne walked up to the front, carrying four large bags. "Let's go."

As they walked out the door, Hal turned back and yelled, "Anyone get off the floor before we are in the cruiser, we'll come back in here and shoot every one of you. You all understand." They nodded. He said, "Alright. Have a lovely day", before turning and walking out the door.

Jayne and Zoe were putting the last bag of money in when he stepped out of the bank. He started to walk towards the cruiser when a bullet hit the wood right above his head. Hal dropped to the ground and let off two bullets towards the direction the shots came from. The bullets hit the shooter in the chest and he fell to the ground. Hal started to rise when the fallen body raised his arm and fired off two more shots.

Hal dropped again and rolled for cover, shooting as he went. He made it behind a cart and reloaded his spent shells. Overhead he could hear Jayne's machine gun firing. He got up and ran to the cruiser, shooting as he went. There were now three men in the street. Two of them were taking cover behind buildings while the third one continued to advance, ignoring the machine gun fired aimed at him. He let off two rounds towards Jayne. One grazed his neck and the other barely missed his head as he ducked down.

Hal shot another bullet at his attacker and jumped onto the cruiser, yelling, "Let's go, let's go!" as he fired off another shot. Inara spun the cruiser around and sped out of the town as Hal and Zoe let off another volley and Jayne threw a grenade at their attackers. The explosion sent dust flying through the air. As the dust settled, the gun man aimed and fired one more shot before putting his gun back in his holster. He carefully bent down and picked up his hat. He brushed the dust off of it before putting it back on his head and watching his quarry ride off out of sight.

. . .

Hal looked at Jayne. "Why the hell did you bring a grenade?"

"We needed it, didn't we?"

"Guys", Zoe said, "I think we've got a problem." She lifted her hand to reveal a bullet hole through her left shoulder.

"Shit!" Hal put his hands on the wound and pushed down on it. He checked her back to see it the bullet went all the way through. It didn't. "Shit!" He looked at Inara. "Radio Simon. Tell him we got gunshot wounds and to tell River to get ready to take off. And tell him to hurry.

Thirty minutes later, Serenity was out of the atmosphere and heading away from the moon they were just on. Simon was busy pulling the bullet out of Zoe's shoulder while Mal told them the story. He finally got a piece out, but it only looked like three quarters of the bullet. He gingerly reached into the wound with his hemostats as he dug around for the other piece of the bullet. He finally got a hold of the lead piece just as Mal was telling about their escape.

"…I jumped onto the ship, yelled 'let's go' and we shot off a couple of shots before Rambo here decided to throw a grenade. After the smoke cleared, they shot at as one more time and got Zoe."

The lead bullet made a clinking sound as if fell to the bottom of the trashcan. "Let me just bandage that up and you'll be good in another week or two." Hal squirted some hardening bandage into the wound and then put some bandages over it. "So, why were they shooting? Do you think they were just lawmen or someone from the Alliance?"

Jayne said, "Had to be the sheriff. Otherwise, they would still be chasing us."

"They still are." Everyone looked at River. "They're following us."

Irana said, "There's no way. They didn't even come after us in the cruiser, and they could catch that hunk of junk in a few minutes."

Hal sighed. "River's right. They are following us."

Silence filled the room. Simon finally broke the silence. "How do you know?"

"He was too good of a shot to be some small time sheriff. And if he was, he would have at least tried to chase us down and get the money back. So it can't be the sheriff. So that means he was either a bounty hunter or an Alliance Operative. Either way, they're coming for us."


	3. Chapter 3

The Operative woke up on a cot in a small cell. There were no windows on the wall, only a small window on the door for the guards to look in every once in a while. He quietly searched his surroundings, analyzing every last detail. It was a bare concrete room with metal ceiling. From the ceiling, there was a florescent light and a small security camera to keep an eye on him. There seemed to be no key points he could break out at. The floor was concrete, so he couldn't dig. The walls were brick, but there was nothing for him to use to break through the brick with. So his only hope of escape would be through the door.

He next decided to check the camera. It was a simple one, but it was able to turn and move to follow his movements, so disappearing from view and escaping through the door as they came to check on him was impossible. The metal was made of steel, so he could not break through it or bend it open if he took the camera out. He then checked the light. The metal case was welded to the ceiling, so there was no way of pulling the light out and climbing through the hole. _Of course not, the Alliance isn't just going to let prisoners set to be executed escape._ He checked under the bed and did a second sweep of the room before he sat on his cot to formulate a plan. His first idea he discarded due to the amount of security in the compound. The second plan he threw away due to lack of supplies. And the third plan would get him out of the room, but not out of the facility. He needed to get the guards in here, turn the camera off, change into the guard's uniform, and exit through the door to the hanger. He could only think of one plan that could possibly work. His brain went through the scenarios to figure out what to do if Plan A doesn't work. Finally, he was satisfied with his plan and began to put it in motion.

Close to one in the morning, the Operative pulled the camera off the ceiling. This went unnoticed for almost half an hour before one of the guards noticed the screen was just white noise. The guards went down to the cell and armed themselves. They tried to turn on the light, but the light would not come on. Their training told them that the prisoner had possibly escaped and that they must go in and make sure he was gone, but another part of their training told them that this was something that a prisoner would plan to get a hostage. They peeped into the room and could not see anything. One of the guards shone a flashlight through the window, trying to find a sign of the Operative. But they could see nothing.

They carefully opened the door and one by one, crept in. They looked up at the area that the light should have been and realized there looked to be a hole in the ceiling. It looked like a tight fit, but it seemed possible for a person to squeeze into it. The chief guard turned to order the guard outside to ring the alarm, but before he could speak, he froze in horror. The Operative was behind the other guard! Before the head guard could say anything, the Operative grabbed the guard outside and closed the door, locking the guards in. They could hear the grunts and screams of their companion outside, and the crunching of bones before the man's ceased to make a sound.

The Operative smiled to himself as he put the dead guards' uniform on. The plan had worked perfectly. He knew he couldn't take the light off, but he could break through it and squeeze through the opening. It took him a total of 15 minutes to break through and squeeze his way into the duct. It took him another five minutes to crawl to the duct directly above the outside of his cell. He just had to wait for the guards to go in and he could make his escape. After the guards entered, he dropped down silently behind the last guard and quickly pulled him to the floor before closing the prison door. After he incapacitated the guard, he was ready to move out.

He had been in the building before; through his years of working for the Alliance, he had several interrogations in this very building. He knew the floor plans and he knew where there was a ship. He calmly walked through the halls to the hanger of the prison. He was only stopped once, but a quick chop to the throat silenced him. He used the prisoner's ID to get through security to the hanger and got in the plane. The first sign the prison got that something was wrong was an unsanctioned ship leaving the prison, and by then, it was too late. The Operative was already out of the atmosphere and on his way to the outer planets.


	4. Chapter 4

Hal sat down at the bar and ordered two drinks. As he waited for his beer, a bald man sat down next to him. He was a short man with pure white skin, like he never saw the sun in his life. His face was rough, filled with scars, including one that ran from his forehead, across his right eye, and down to his chin. That eye had a coat of white over it, while his other eye was red as hellfire. He lifted his hand and signaled for something to drink. The bartender nodded and handed him a glass of rum and vodka before handing Hal his drinks.

"Hello Hal."

Hal took a gulp from his glass. "Hello Richard. Did you stop by to talk business or buy me a drink?"

Richard laughed before waving the bartender over. "Put this man's drinks on my tab", he said before turning to Hal. "Might as well buy you a drink if you got me what I wanted."

"Don't worry, I've got it."

"Good. So, where is it?"

"It's safe. Now let's talk about my crew's and my fee."

Richard nodded, his bald skull reflecting the dull yellow lights overhead. He turned around and got up. "Follow me."

Hal took a last gulp of his beer and followed him across the room. Richard pulled open a door and beckoned him in. Hal paused, wary of Richard. He never liked doing business in closed rooms alone. It gave leverage to whoever invited him into the room. He didn't have a gun, but if Richard had one, he might have a bit more of a bargaining tool. From the corner of his eye, he saw River tensing up, ready to strike. What the hell, he thought. I'm not going to be alone. If I need help, River's probably going to know about it before I do. He shook his head slightly to River, and she relaxed, her eyes still cautious. Hal walked through the door and someone closed it behind him.

"So", Richard said from his seat as he motioned Hal to sit down. "What percentage were you thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking 100%, but I don't think that will do for you."

Richard smiled. "No, I don't think that will work."

"How about we split it 50-50?"

Richard started to laugh.

"Now look here, you're so called Intel did nothing to help us except to tell us where the bank was and how much was in it. You didn't get any password; you didn't get any information on how many people were guarding it. For all we knew, there could have been twelve guards instead of two. Plus we're taking all the risk."

Richard frowned. "Yes, I heard about the shooting." He paused and stood up. "Alright, here is my final offer". He leaned over the table. "Nothing."

"What?"

Richard pulled a file out of his briefcase and tossed it over to Hal. Hal suspiciously looked at Richard before opening the file and pulling out its contents. It was seven posters, each one with a picture of his crew. At the bottom of each page, below the picture, there were different numbers for each person. But what caught his eye was his own figure.

"Congratulations Hal, you're worth 10 million dollars. That's a hard thing to do for a small time smuggler."

"When did you get this?"

"Three days ago. As you can see, the Alliance is very desperate to find you. Anyone that finds you will be quite a rich man." He took a sip from his glass. "Which brings me to my next point. The reason I brought you here was because someone wants to see you." He clicked a button and a door behind him opened. From the doorway came a cloaked figure, his face hidden from sight by the hood.

Hal leaped up and charged Richard. Richard smashed his glass into Hals face before giving him a solid kick to the groin. Hal doubled over in pain. He looked up as Richard was about to kick him again when he heard a familiar voice.

"Stop."

Richard paused, looking at his guest. He slowly lowered his foot. "Sorry. So, now that you have him, where's my money."

The guest's hand flew out like lightning, striking Richard in the side before twisting his hand. Richard froze, his face full of panic as he realized he had been tricked. The man removed his hood and smiled at Hal. "Hello Hal", the Operative said with a grin.

Hal looked up with hatred at the Operative. "So, you still want to bring me and my crew in."

"Not at all. I came to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

He was about to speak when the door flew open. River stood there, staring at the two men as a drop of blood ran down her forehead. "We need to go."

The bar's patrons were scrambling as the Alliance soldiers stormed in. They open fired, shooting at anything that moved. They flipped over the tables as they searched the fallen bodies.

River tossed Hal his gun as they hid in the room. The Operative removed his robe and motioned for the two of them to follow him before disappearing through the door he came from. River ran to the door only to be stopped by Hal. "Hold on, are you sure he's safe?"

She looked behind her. "He's safer than them", nodding towards the soldiers.

Hal looked back and forth at both doors. "Good point."

The narrow hallway seemed to go on forever. The only light was from the windows that ran along the hallway. They finally caught up to the Operative, who was starting up his ship in the hanger. "Get in", he yelled as the rockets ignited. The two jumped into the cargo bay of the small ship and sealed it shut as the ship left the hanger and headed away from the city. "Where's your ship?"

Hal was about to yell up your ass when River quietly said, "Head north."

The Operative turned the ship and headed north. Finally, River pointed at a series of cliffs in the desert mountain and the Operative set the ship down at the edge of the cave. The bay door opened and Hal started to step off when a round of machine gun fire hit the ramp. Hal jumped back and yell, "Whoa! Watch it!" He looked around, trying to find the shooter when Jayne stepped out from behind a rock pile, his machine gun in his hands. "What the hell was that!"

"Sorry boss, but we saw the ship coming and we thought it might be Alliance or…" He raised his gun again and pointed it at the Operative as he stepped off. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"He gave us a lift."


	5. Chapter 5

Jayne kept his hand rested on his pistol as he watched the Operative eat. He ignored Jayne as he finished his stew. He wiped his mouth with and napkin and carefully folded it and placed it on the table. He stood up. Jayne pulled the gun out of his holster and pointed it at him. The Operative smiled.

"Will you put that up before someone gets hurt?"

"The only one who will get hurt is you."

The Operative looked down at the gun and then back up at Jayne. He started to laugh. Jayne's face filled with surprise.

"What's so funny?"

"You are my friend."

Quickly, his hand shot out and took the gun. His other hand grabbed Jayne's arm and twisted it. Jayne spun around and fell on the table, with the Operative over top of him as he pushed the arm up more, immobilizing him. The Operative unloaded the gun swiftly with his free hand and he threw it down on the ground. He put his head next to Jayne's and he softly spoke.

"Never threaten me again."

He stood up and kept his grip on Jayne.

"You can put the gun down Captain."

Hal walked through the door, his revolver aimed at the back of the Operative's head as he crept closer.

"Let him go."

"As you wish."

He released his grip from Jayne and he turned around and began to walk out of the dining room. Jayne quickly stood up and charged the Operative. The Operative nimbly moved out of the way and as Jayne passed him, he thrust his arm into Jayne's side and pushed on the nerve. Jayne fell to the floor, trembling as he tried to move his limbs. The Operative turned to Hal.

"You should teach your man to learn when he has lost."

He disappeared down the corridor.

Hal walked over to Jayne and flipped him over. Jayne groaned.

"Son of a bitch."

"Well you were asking for it.'

"I didn't know he'd paralyze me."

"You learn your lesson?"

He sighed. "Yeah."

Hal stood up.

"Hal, do you really trust this guy?"

Hal looked down at Jayne and then stared down the corridor that the Operative disappeared down and then followed him.

Jayne lay on the ground struggling against his own body as he tried to move.

"What about me," he yelled down the hall.

. . .

The crew carefully eyed the Operative. He coolly looked back at each of them in turn, his gaze hesitating at River. He smiled at her and looked at Hal.

"So she's going to be your lie detector."

Hal nodded.

"Very well. Since everyone is here, I'll go ahead and start. After you all revealed the Alliance's affairs on Miranda, they realized you are their top priority."

"Why?" Kaylee interrupted. "What we did is done. We can't do anything else."

"River here is the reason. They believe she has other secrets about the Alliance. Things worse than Miranda."

"What could be worse than Miranda?"

"I don't know, but I think River knows. Perhaps not consciously, but she knows about other workings of the Alliance. They've realized that they need to give you nowhere to run. That's why the bounty is so high, and eventually, I'm sure they will make it dead or alive."

Hal said "Is that it? We could have found that out from anyone."

The Operative frowned. "There is more. They've realized they need more to be certain you will be caught. They've called Charles Dante."

A deathly silence filled the room. The crew stared at the Operative with this news. Simon looked at their faces, puzzled.

"Who's Charles Dante?"

Hal looked at him.

"He's a bounty hunter."

"I don't see the big deal. We've dealt with bounty hunters before."

"Not like this one."

"Charles Dante is also a Reaver hunter", Jayne said. "He's the only thing they are afraid of. He likes to torture them after he catches them. I heard he likes to cut their limbs off and disembowel them before scalping them and burning them alive."

"How do you know?" Hal asked.

"I used to work with a guy that did a few jobs on one of Dante's trips into Reaver territory. He said the guy loved to watch them suffer."

The Operative interrupted. "He's also one of the best trackers there are. He's probably on his way to find you right now."

"He already found us."

The Operative looked at Hal.

"He almost got us on a job on Deadmoon. Is there anything we can do?"

The Operative shook his head.

"Either keep running, kill him, or die."


	6. Chapter 6

The Reaver teeth clicked together around his neck as he walked through the galley ways towards the bridge. His leather boots clicked against the metal as he walked and the pistol at his hip silently thumped against his thigh. As he walked, he had a slight limp, almost imperceptible after years of hiding it. But still, it was there. Given to him by a Reaver, painted completely white. His oldest adversary. At the time, he thought it was strange to see a Reaver decorate himself as such, but after years of hearing all the descriptions of his elusive foe, he realized it was so the blood was that much more visible, the fear that much more palpable.

Dante climbed the stairs and stood at the helm of his ship, putting his hand on his pilot's shoulder. The pilot, Jim Bradshaw, was a bright young man, with dark brown hair and pale skin. Dante had hired him almost immediately out of flight school. Of course, he didn't have to offer much to get him. Dante had done his research. Jim's parents were killed in a Reaver raid. He only survived by hiding beneath the bed his mother was ravaged upon. As soon as he heard the name of his employer, Jim was on board.

There were twelve of them. Most were mercenaries, people Dante hired specifically to help with his crusade against the Reaver hoards. The only civilians were Jim and Ronda, the mechanic. Of course, they couldn't be called civilians. Not after the things they've seen, the things they've done.

Dante tapped Jim on the shoulder and Jim looked up.

"How's it going Son?"

"Fine sir. Can't sleep."

"No, I just wanted to walk around a bit."

Dante carefully rubbed his chest, still sore after the rounds Mal had fired into his bullet proof armor. He knew the dull pressure would be there for another week before it faded away completely. But it still hurt like hell. Jim watched him massage the bruise.

"Have you gone to see Peter?"

"What the hell do I need a medic for? I ain't bleeding, I ain't dying. There ain't nothing he can do for me anyhow. Just got to wait it out. Wait it out."

"Yessir."

"How's the old girl?"

"The ship's fine sir. A few holes on the port wing, but nothing worth fretting about. She's got another month in her before we need any repairs."

"Good, good."

He continued to nod as he looked out into the deep darkness of space. Most people couldn't look very far into the heart of that darkness, focusing on the stars or whatever substance was there in that vastness, but the void was what Dante looked upon. He looked upon it as a thing of beauty. He stared into the gulf of emptiness while Jim remained quiet, staring down at his console and occasionally looking up at the stars. Dante didn't look away as he spoke.

"Why don't you go on to bed?"

"I'm fine sir."

"Let me rephrase that. Go to bed son. That's an order."

Jim nodded and after pressing a few buttons to maintain the _Meridian's_ course, he stood up and saluted.

"I wish you'd stop doing that son."

"I'm sorry sir. Force of habit."

"Well, I can't blame a man for habits that ain't bad. Go and get some rest."

Jim nodded and marched down the hall towards his bunk. Dante turned to watch him. He'll never get the military out of him, he thought. It's in his blood, in his soul. And once something's in a man's soul, it's harder than hell to get it out. He looked over the ship's console and saw everything was stable, so he turned to his maps. Most ships had a basic Galactic Guidance Drive, but he'd always preferred his old fashion, paper maps. He would spend hours poring over every detail, marking his positions and that of his prey. He knew where the Reavers stayed. He just wandered along the outlying planets, straddling the border between their territory and his. He hid from them until they came down on an Rim world, and then he would swoop down and wipe them out, but not before demanding a handsome price for his services. But always, in the bodies of each of the corpses, he searched for the one he most desire. The Pale Reaver.

As he looked at the maps, his finger wandered over the places he marked Reaver territory. He ran his finger along the line Mal had taken to Miranda, whistling in admiration. Dante only wished he had men with the courage and stupidity to do what Mal had done. It was a pity the man was his quarry. He flipped through several maps until he came on the one where his prey had been last spotted. His source, Richard, had responded to his call and told how they had been there to pick up some money and had fled towards the Rim planets. He looked over the map, studying it, as he anticipated his prey's next move. He ran his finger over the map and stopped at a small, recently terraformed planet. Anthrila. That was where his prey would be. On the icy world of Anthrila. And the _Meridian_ would be there soon.

"A day or two," he whispered to himself. "Just a day or two."


	7. Chapter 7

Jayne sat at the kitchen table, spinning his knife like a top on the wooden surface. He stared across at the Operative and River, who were noisily eating their soup. The two continued to talk, with River laughing every once in a while to some quip from the Operative. When he spoke, he spoke softly and she stared at him as though he were the only one in the world. In the middle of a sentence, she suddenly yelled out, "Last one to finish their soup is a feh feh pi goh!" She began furiously gulping down the soup and the Operative quickly joined her, though she finished first, giving a celebratory whoop. The Operative and River laughed while Jayne continued to glare at the Operative. Suddenly, River perked up and became serious. Without a word, she rose and ran out of the room and down the corridor, her combat boots echoing through the halls. The Operative looked at Jayne and smiled, but Jayne remained still, twirling his knife with his fingers, glaring at the man he had to break bread with.

The Operative lifted the bowl to his lips and greedily drank the remainder of the soup and set it down gently. He looked across at Jayne and then looked down at the knife.

"Perhaps you should stop playing with your knife."

"Perhaps you should shut up."

"If you're trying to intimidate me, you should stop."

"Why? Because you're intimidated?"

"Because you're drilling holes into the table."

Jayne looked down at the hole he created. Momentarily taken back, he looked up and dumbly retorted, "So."

The Operative shrugged. "Suit yourself."

The Operative slowly laid his palms flat on the table and slowly began to tap his fingers on the polished wood. They stared at each other, Jayne glaring while the Operative looked at his adversary with a bemused look. All the while, Jayne spun the blade deeper and deeper into the table. They sat there for a long while before the Operative spoke.

"Are you going to say anything or just bore a hole through the table?"

"Just because Mal trusts you, don't mean that I do."

"Clearly. But is that any reason to destroy a fine table."

Jayne leaned forward and pushed the knife in even harder, twisting it faster. "I ain't done. I know you've got something you ain't telling us, so you spit it out now or I'll beat your…"

"HEY!"

Jayne turned around to see Mal standing in the doorway, his face one of astonishment.

"What the hell are you doing to my table?"

Jayne dumbly looked down at the table. The hole had grown and was now almost a quarter inch wide and twice as deep. He tried to come up with an excuse, but all that came out was, "He made me do it."

Mal motioned to the door.

"Get out of here."

Jayne took the invitation, glaring at the Operative as he rose, and walked out of the dining room. Mal watched him leave and called out after him, "And don't think you're not paying for the table." He turned to the Operative who smiled.

"I never realized he was such a poetic character."

"That's about as poetic as he gets." He sat down. "I've noticed you've become quite familiar with River."

"She's a nice girl."

"You know she has a brother."

"Yes."

"On this ship."

"Yes."

"So, you know…" He spun his hands in the air while the Operative looked at him confused.

"No, I don't know."

"Let me put this plainly. Don't touch her."

"The thought never crossed my mind. Why? Has it crossed yours?"

Mal opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his eyes and brushed back his brown hair and then looked back at the Operative.

"I don't know why River trusts you. I don't trust you. Jayne doesn't trust you. As far as I know, the only person on this ship that trusts you is River and I don't want you taking advantage of a helpless… well, not exactly helpless, but you get what I'm saying."

"I understand. So, where are we going."

"Anthrila. There's a guy who can do some repairs for _Serenity_ before we start running. I'd suggest you buckle up. It's going to be an interesting landing."


End file.
